


Guidance

by xRYDERx



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, F/M, M/M, References to Norse Mythology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:48:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRYDERx/pseuds/xRYDERx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I could just allow Sköll to maul you with his jaws. He does enjoy doing that. And apparently your potential is delicious."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jason turns his head just a fraction of an inch to peer at the owner of that voice through squinted eyes. It is in fact a man. A boy more like it. Judging by his appearance he looks to be in his teens. Late teens. Then again when it comes to magic nothing should be taken at face value. Especially when that face exudes unlimited power. The threat is gone in an instant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The boy - man - witch - stares at Jason through magic eyes. His gaze is taunting and infuriating and Jason wants to rip those pretty little eyes right out of his sockets.  He is reminded why he is physically unable to when a pair of wolves, one black and the other white, saunters in and takes a seat at their master's sides. They are far greater in size than any wolf Jason has seen before. Their eyes far too knowing to allow them to be anything nearing normal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"This is Sköll," the witch gestures to the white beast and strokes its neck. He raises the other hand and scratches the black monster's chin and continues. "And this is Hati. They hate you quite a bit. You have unbelievable luck."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guidance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoubixLoveless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoubixLoveless/gifts).



When Jason opens his eyes it's dark and he can't tell up from down. And it is a dizzying feeling being suspended in mid space. Yes. Space. Because this is not a room. There is no air. There is only darkness. Caressing, licking the exposed areas of skin.

 

He's sensitive. It hurts. He's confused and tired and sore all over.

 

When he tries to move his entire body aches. Pain spreads from the back of his neck and down along his spine. It snakes around to his chest. Arms. Legs. Makes him want to writhe. But he can't. Because if he moves he will suffer more.

 

It feels like someone has taken a million knives and carefully they've begun tearing into him. Dissecting and poking around his organs with scalpels and knives. No. Not knives. Not blades of any kind. The sharpness is jagged and thick.

 

Fangs. Teeth. Two sets. Wolves rip into him and saliva, moist and sticky, leaks into his wounds. Burn like poison. Acidic.

 

Jason hears a howl, commanding and dominant above the growls of the creatures attacking him. 

 

He opens the eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed. Looks down. Up? His body is wrapped in brown bandages. Some kind of green ointment leaks from them, thick and odorous even in the locked space of a witch's realm. 

 

It had been a memory. A warning brought on by magic. Magic much more potent than his own.

 

In the darkness a form takes shape. An androgynous silhouette. Upside down. Or perhaps it is Jason who is hanging the wrong way. Perhaps there is no wrong way. Perhaps there is no correct way.

 

A voice pierces through the heavy silence. He can't tell if it is being spoken out loud or is being directly inserted into his mind. It asks why he has come to the deepest, darkest area of the Forgotten Forest. The center of the mystical realm. It asks why he carries a gleipnir. If he knows of the kings of this kingdom and their antipathy for the ribbon-like binding.

 

He replies in a way he thinks is through mental connection. Meaning they are in fact psychically linked. Jason would put up a fight, a hell of a fight too, if he didn't feel the dull throbbing around his neck and the base of his spine. And like he wasn't about to vomit.

 

He didn't know. He'd heard rumors. Whispers. Didn't believe them. The gleipnir was a gift from the dwarves he trained with. In case he got into trouble. Trouble similar to the situation he is currently in.

 

He thinks he sees a smile. A wide, white, Cheshire grin. Stark and pale against the darkness. It eases into one of slight amusement and eyes form above them. A brilliant blue he's never witnessed before in someone's irises aside from a mystical creature. He's seen it before in water based magic. In air based magic. In potions and gems and enchantments. Never in the eyes of a human. Or witch. He'd probably find it less intimidating and more stunning in a different situation. And if two sets of golden eyes weren't glaring at him on opposite sides of the first figure. 

 

The familiar fangs appear in a large, cruel grin. They lick their black lips and approach Jason. He can't move. Can't speak. Can't object. They draw closer.

 

Jason is straddling the line between consciousness and, well, unconsciousness. He doesn't know if it's the fatigue. If he dreamed the next bit or the looming man, woman perhaps, eases the growling beasts with gentle cooing and scratches behind their ears. Guides them away from him.

-

When Jason wakes again he is in a bed. It's much too soft and much too warm. He would attempt to escape his unfamiliar surroundings if he weren't cautious about the previous events. Any mortal would assume it was a dream. 

 

Not Jason. He's been in other realms before. None of them have been as dark. As smothering. But every magical being is entitled to their own decorations.

 

It isn't as though Jason doesn't have his own space to occupy. He does. And he knows one does not simply choose what goes into it. The space chooses what form it takes from your mental and physical state of being and his often changes depending on his mood.

 

Maybe his captor has enough power to bend his realm to his will. It has been heard of before.

 

And now Jason feels how disgusting he is. Smells the herbs beneath his wrappings. Tastes the power in the air.

 

He's too hot and is going to start sweating soon.

 

"If you sweat on my sheets you'll have to buy me another set," the voice from before says. It sounds agitated, barely, and amused at the same time. "Or I could just allow Sköll to maul you with his jaws. He does enjoy doing that. And apparently your potential is delicious."

 

Jason turns his head just a fraction of an inch to peer at the owner of that voice through squinted eyes. It is in fact a man. A boy more like it. Judging by his appearance he looks to be in his teens. Late teens. Then again when it comes to magic nothing should be taken at face value. Especially when that face exudes unlimited power. The threat is gone in an instant.

 

The boy - man - witch - stares at Jason through magic eyes. His gaze is taunting and infuriating and Jason wants to rip those pretty little eyes right out of his sockets. He is reminded why he is physically unable to when a pair of wolves, one black and the other white, saunters in and takes a seat at their master's sides. They are far greater in size than any wolf Jason has seen before. Their eyes far too knowing to allow them to be anything nearing normal.

 

"This is Sköll," the witch gestures to the white beast and strokes its neck. He raises the other hand and scratches the black monster's chin and continues. "And this is Hati. They hate you quite a bit. You have unbelievable luck."

 

Jason scoffs and finds his voice. "And why is that, exactly?" he spits out, voice rough and gravely. As if he's smoked his entire reserves of the healing tobacco.

 

"Because," the witch hums and ceases his physical praise, "for once the Kings and I do not see eye to eye."

 

"And that concerns me because what now?" Jason is putting up the strongest show of bravado he can muster. It’s pretty difficult without the ability to stand but he thinks he pulls it off well.

 

The witch boy laughs and rises from his seat of finely crafted mahogany. In fact, now that Jason is more aware of his surroundings, all the furniture in the generously sized room matches perfectly from the chairs and end tables to the large desk and bed.

 

Jason is unimpressed.

 

"You see, these are the Kings. They rule the Land Of The Forgotten. They are also my Familiars. As you know, disagreements between partners rarely happen."

 

Jason does not know this. His Familiar is just as much of an ass as he is. They do not usually see eye - to - eye. Rakhsh is usually wrong. So says Jason.

 

"They think you mean to treat them as slaves. That you wish them harm. Like your people did their father," the witch continues. He doesn't seem as bothered by Jason's presence as his Familiars. "I do not blame them. Your people seem to have a knack interfering where it is not there place to interfere."

 

Sköll, he thinks its Sköll, snaps his large jaws in Jason's direction. The boy only chuckles and brushes the bangs hanging in his face behind his ear.

 

"Irregardless, I do not think you meant to trespass into our territory. Did you?" the witch boy has a haughty tone, carries himself too high. Jason wants to punch him. He thinks he should stop entertaining the many ways he could hurt the boy if he weren't midst healing. The black beast is glaring at him with hauntingly amber eyes. The creature is intelligent. Whether it is reading his mind or not it knows when its witch is being threatened, even if not physically. 

 

"Fuck. I thought all those stories were just made up shit the dwarves tossed around to scare little dwarf kids," Jason admits. No one really understood how he could be gifted with magic, very gifted, but not hold belief in the higher realms.

 

"So what did happen?" the witch boy asks, now sitting at the foot of the bed. Jason wonders why he asks if their minds already melded. The false innocent expression he wears gives him away. He knows exactly what Jason was doing there.

 

"I got lost," Jason replies quietly, hoping his attackers don't hear him. No such luck.

 

The twin wolves stretch in sync and begin to circle the bed Jason occupies in the middle of the room.

 

"You got lost," Sköll scoffs.

 

"No one loses their way in our forest," Hati informs him. Unlike Sköll his tone is even. Controlled ferociousness.

 

"Indeed!" Sköll almost roars into Jason's face. His breath is surprisingly pleasant.

 

"The forest guides young magic users," Hati says aloud as though he is working out a puzzle.

 

The witch boy grins and takes Jason's chin between his fingers. Smooth and cool and strong. "Which means you are exactly where you are meant to be," he practically purrs.

 

Jason slaps his hand away and is met with a pair of identical growling and snorting. The witch boy raises his hand and the sounds are replaced with low growls more like background noise.

 

"The forest knows what is best for us. It is much older than magic itself, you see. I have always trusted the forest," the boy says with a smile that makes him seem even younger.

 

"And the forest seems to trust you," Hati says, now calmed. Jason thinks it is directed to the strange boy holding him captive. Sort of.

 

"You had better trust in the forest as well, you little shit," Sköll harshly warns. So yeah. No. Talking to Jason. Not witch boy.

 

"Calm yourself, Sköll, he means us no harm. Besides, he can barely move his toes. What threat does this beginner pose to us?" the witch boy says nonchalantly, crossing one leg over the other. Cheeky bastard.

 

"You trust too easily, child," Hati chides and places his head in the witch boy's lap to receive more physical comfort. Apparently some Familiars require physical touch for strength. Or something.

 

"You should learn by now. This is how you were placed in this situation in the first place," Sköll groans but also trots up to the boy and accepts the rub down.

 

"You still haven't told me your name," Jason finally says. After awkwardly watching the affectionate touches. He misses his guide now and calls to him through their bond.

 

"That won't work," the witch boy warns Jason. "The forest throws off all sense of direction. Even those being pulled along with Familiar bonds suffer. I will bring your soul to this place myself."

 

Then the boy is standing over the small round table and messing around in Jason's medical supply bag. He pulls out an enchanted bracelet made of bronze Jason owns and keeps only as a memento. Its magic wore off many moons before it came into Jason's possession. He's fine with that but not with the thievery boldly being done before his eyes. Before he can protest a pipe is being shoved into his mouth. The witch boy blows into the opposite end and it lights with his mystic spark.

 

Then he's gone from Jason's side and is draping a cloak around himself near the door. The white wolf is in stride beside him while the black wolf hops onto the bed and curls at his feet. Jason would kick the source of his pain but the action would only bring about more.

 

Jason hears the door opens and looks up through drooping eyes.

 

"Rest now, young one. Your healing requires deep sleep," the witch boy says looking right back at Jason. His inhuman eyes glow bright in the naturally lit room and he smiles. The first genuine one Jason has seen. "I am Tim."

 

He would bet money that’s a false name.

 

And then Jason is asleep. Dreamless and floating in the realm of Elysian. And when he wakes days later to the scent of earth and the sound of chatter he knows the witch boy - Tim - has had something to do with it.


End file.
